


he looks cute standing next to you (& i don't know what to do!)

by mangemouth



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 07:49:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangemouth/pseuds/mangemouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto has a problem with jealousy. Rin has a problem with Facebook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	he looks cute standing next to you (& i don't know what to do!)

Makoto stares at the image on his computer screen, and wonders very calmly why he suddenly wants to punch a hole in Mikoshiba Seijuurou’s face.

As he considers what comment to leave (because he knew Rin looked forward to his comments on his endless Facebook updates), he studies the photo some more. It’s Rin and Mikoshiba, laughing hard and leaning on each other by a hotel pool. Rin is holding an embarrassing looking drink.

` **Tachibana Makoto**  
Haha great pic. I wish I was there having fun with you guys! Miss you, Rin! `

…That sounds a little desperate, he thinks. The backspace button is tapped repeatedly.

` **Tachibana Makoto**  
Haha great pic. Rin looks really happy! `

A strangely boiling hot anger results in his gut. No, definitely not. Backspaced.

` **Tachibana Makoto**  
Haha stop draping yourself all over my fucking boyfr `

Oh, he’s jealous. That makes this easier, actually.

` **Tachibana Makoto**  
: ) `

There.

 

 

Long distance sucks. Surprising exactly no one, Makoto is the kind of boyfriend that likes to be attentive. After a sometimes-bumpy two years of dating, he and Rin have settled into a really comfortable place with one another, and he’s loath to give it up. While he’s thrilled Rin has made the national team and taken another important step towards his goals, he’s less thrilled about the long trips for training camps, how Rin falls asleep on Skype all the time because he’s so worn out, how his bed is suddenly too big and too empty. Rin’s only at the other end of the country, but it feels like the other end of the world, sometimes.

Most of the time, Makoto can hack it just fine. He’s working on finishing up his teaching degree, employed as a teacher’s aid, and it’s pretty time consuming. Haru’s always there to listen to him moan about it, even when he’s got deadlines to meet in his job as a manga assistant. Rei calls from university often, and Nagisa always orchestrates big get-togethers whenever he can.

Makoto’s grown, too – he doesn’t mind being on his own as much, he’s living more independently. He has Rin to thank for that, a bit, but mostly himself. He’s finally got some idea of who the man he wants to become is, and he’s excited to do so.

But he still misses him, a dull but constant pricking. He misses Rin’s sarcastic jokes in his ear and Rin’s sleek skin under his hands. He misses all that energy directed at him, chasing him through their small, shared house and annoying him too early in the morning. He misses the sappy way Rin always makes sure to kiss him when he comes home, like some kind of bizarre, shark-toothed, dutiful wife, and he misses the annoyed and excitable sounds he makes at the TV when they’re watching sports.

He misses talking with him, exercising with him, swimming with him, feeling Rin’s eyes linger on his broad back when he collapses on his towel at the beach. He misses _being_ with Rin.

Makoto is well aware Rin misses him too. He doesn’t openly admit it much, but complains at length that Makoto would be a much better traveling companion, since traveling with the national team is roughly equivalent to spending time with a bunch of drunk toddlers, and this includes Mikoshiba.

Mikoshiba, who gets to talk with Rin, exercise with Rin, swim with Rin, maybe feel Rin’s eyes linger on his broad back when he collapses into a hotel bed –

Whoops. Snapped his pencil. How careless of him!

 

 

Another day, another update to Rin’s facebook. It’s one Rin’s taken himself, and in it he’s throwing up his bicep, flexing like the peacock he is. His tank top cuts low, and his neck is bare, that crooked ponytail jutting impudently above the tanned skin. Shameless, he is totally, perfectly shameless for the camera.

Makoto would not complain, but there is another bicep next to Rin’s.

He knows it’s totally irrational. He can admit this to himself. Rin’s faithful, would probably never even look at another guy, he’s such a sappy romantic. Plus, Mikoshiba is dating Rin’s sister now, for goodness’ sake. There is nothing going on between the two of them but team bonding.

Really, he’s happy Rin has found someone to share his Olympic experience with. He’s not threatened by Mikoshiba. That would be ridiculous.

` **Tachibana Makoto**  
Where the hell is Mikoshiba’s other handnklg `

Makoto decides to close the laptop for today.

 

 

He wakes up in the middle of the night, though, thinking about that strip of bitable skin at Rin’s nape. Groggy and resigned to his body’s pushy desires, he shoves a clumsy hand down his pajama bottoms. Makoto closes his eyes and lazily calls up his go-to fantasies; big, bouncing breasts, long, chestnut hair, to start with. The hair gets shorter as he gets harder. Red hair. Red hair on tanned skin. His own hands pushing down a strong body, one that twists against him. The shifting of Rin’s hips, yanked up. Rin on his knees. The arch of Rin’s back. Spreading the cheeks of Rin’s perfect, perfect ass. Sinking three fingers in at once, hearing a low, husky yelp. Rin’s hands fisting the sheets as Makoto fucks him from behind. Mikoshiba giving him a wink, and a thumbs up.

Makoto bolts upright in bed, sweating hard.

 

 

“ – incredible. You know I hate diving practice, but my entry really is a ton better now.”

“Is it?” Makoto answers distractedly. He’s grading papers, the phone jammed against his ear. Long distance sucks; he wants to talk to Rin before the other goes to practice, but if he doesn’t finish grading these in the next half hour, he’s going to be in trouble.

“Yeah. I was using too much power, not enough control. Seijuurou says it’s about keeping your thighs together.”

His attention snaps to focus. He has made a heavy line across the homework of an elementary schooler. “Sorry, what?”

“Oi, are you listening? You’re totally spacing out. I can call back later if you’re busy.”

“Ah, no! I’ve waited all morning to talk to you. I just really have to finish grading before homeroom, too. I should have done it last night, but with this and that, uh, what did Mikoshiba say about your thighs?”

A short silence. “Uh… to keep them together. For a better entry.”

“Entry?”

“Into the water…?” A soft, amused huff. “Makoto, you’re still half asleep.”

No. He’s living in a nightmare. “Eheh… I guess so…”

 

 

Makoto asks Haruka for romantic advice.

In retrospect, since it’s come to that, he probably should have known things were getting out of control.

“Rin’s not going to cheat on you,” Haru intones flatly, bent over his desk and inking a background with laser focus.

“I know that!” Makoto sighs. He’s feeling overdramatic, he’s definitely made too much of a fuss over this. But he just can’t get the two of them out of his mind. It seems like every time he looks at his phone, there’s another update of Seijuurou and Rin hanging all over each other on some picturesque beach in Hokkaido. He should be the one Rin is gnashing one of his horribly toothy smiles at. He should be the one with his arm around Rin’s shoulders. And why do they always have to be so _shirtless_ together?

“Then?” Haru remains straight to the point.

“…I’m just envious I’m not there with him, I guess.” Makoto pauses, embarrassed, because it’s definitely more than that. He can’t even get off anymore without getting cockblocked by his own jealous imagination. Not that he’s going to tell his childhood best friend that. “…And don’t they seem really close lately, in the pictures Rin puts on Facebook?”

“I don’t know. Rin updates too much,” Haru responds, which is true, but isn’t really an answer.  


Makoto sags against the edge of the bed. “I’m making too much of things, aren’t I,” he sighs, feeling stupid. He receives an affirmative grunt from Haru, and laughs weakly. “What’s Mikoshiba got that I don’t, anyway?”

Haru puts his inking pen aside, picking up his exact-o knife to cut shading filters. He looks over at Makoto, the blade poised in his steady fingers. “He’s a better swimmer, who’s going to the Olympics,” he says bluntly. “And he has bigger muscles.”

Makoto stares at the knife, wondering very calmly why Haru didn’t just shove it into his chest. If there are two things that Rin cares about in this world, it’s Olympic swimming and muscles.

“It’ll be fine, though.”

Haru cuts out the shading for a bush. Makoto sinks his head into his hands, and whimpers.

 

 

The most recent photo is somehow the worst one. It’s not even from Rin’s account, and Rin’s not even paying attention to the camera; he’s dressed like a slob, sporting baggy sweats, red stubble, a hat, and flip flops. He’s having a normal looking conversation over breakfast with another teammate and Mikoshiba, who Makoto _swears_ has been getting more buff and cheerful with every picture he clicks through. They’re not even touching in this one, no grinning or posing or irritatingly half-naked bodies pressed together. There’s nothing that could serve as fodder for his jealousy.

Nothing, except for the fact that Mikoshiba, in full view of all parties present, including Rin, is stealing a piece of bacon off of Rin’s plate.

 

 

“Off his plate?” asks Rei. “Yes, I believe I saw that one. It was not extremely flattering for Rin.”

“What did you think…?”

“Think…?”

“It’s really intimate, isn’t it? And bacon is his favorite breakfast meat, he’d never let – ”

“What? Bacon isn’t beautiful at all. He should consider croissants. Ah! Or perhaps…”

Talking to Rei does not make him feel better.

 

 

“Ahaha, yeah, of course! Rin-chan looked like a real dork in that one! He’s going to be _soooo_ embarrassed when he sees he got tagged in that! Did you see his flip flops?”

“Yeah, they were pretty silly, but – ”

“Pink flip flops! Ahahahahah, hahahahah!”

Talking to Nagisa does not make him feel better.

 

 

“I think it means Mikoshiba was hungry,” snaps Haru.

“But – ”

“Makoto, it’s 2 in the morning. Bye.”

Even talking to Haru does not make him feel better.

 

 

Really, there’s only one person left to talk to.

“Rin? Can you see me?” Makoto waves his hand in front of the laptop camera. Rin’s expression lights up like a bonfire, and he leans forward in the video, adjusting the red headphones Makoto got him last Christmas, and wow, it feels really, really good to see that face (by itself, and not next to Mikoshiba’s).

“Yeah, I can see you!” A razor sharp, but somehow still goofy, grin is flashed. “Yo. I like the new haircut.” Then Rin’s face falls a bit, and he wags his mobile phone. “Hey, what was with that weird text from Haru?”

Oh no. Oh, no. “Um, thanks, what text?”

“He was asking me how much Mikoshiba bench presses…?”

This has gone far enough. He wonders if his friend did this on purpose, indirectly forcing Makoto’s hand, as usual. Sneaky, traitorous Haru. There’s no better friend a man could ask for. “There’s something I have to tell you,” Makoto blurts, a bit miserably. “You’re alone, right?”

“Seijuurou’s in the bathroom. We got really dirty and sweaty today, jeez.”

“You got. Uh.”

“Ch, beach training again.”

Makoto tries not to twitch. “Can you go out to the veranda?”

Rin makes a confused face, but shrugs and complies. Once he’s settled down outside, the door closed behind him, he looks more apprehensive and asks, “What’s up…?”

Well, here goes. “I’m jealous,” he admits instantly. He’s absolutely no stranger to jealousy – growing up as a participant and observer in the drama of Rin and Haru’s intense friendship definitely gave him many, many chances to experience jealousy before now. But in this respect, romantically, he doesn’t have a lot of experience. He’d found out in high school, although painstakingly, that there were parts of Rin that _didn’t_ belong to Haru, parts that Rin didn’t want Haru to have, and that was because he wanted to give them to Makoto.

These were the sides to Rin, lovely sides, which no one has ever seen but Makoto, and he feels resolutely protective of that fact. Those sides don’t just include RinRin, the charming little boy they all fell helplessly for. They include _Rin_ , Rin himself, all grown and striving, looking to be made complete in Makoto’s embrace. An awesome resoluteness wrapped in a bundle of tenacious insecurities and sadness, swathed one more time in flirty cockiness. Vulnerable and fierce Matsuoka Rin, leaking burning, raw aspirations and wet, earnest tears.

That Rin is his, and the idea that Mikoshiba might impose himself into that makes him feel like he’s losing his mind.

“Jealous?” Confusion writes itself underneath mussed red bangs. “Of what?”

It’s as much as he’d thought about Rin – too romantic to have an unfaithful thought in his body – but he feels like he should explain himself, clear the worries that have been swamping him. “You and Mikoshiba,” he responds. Rin opens his mouth, but Makoto keeps going, “I know you’d never cheat on me, I’m a little slow sometimes, but I know that at least.”

He takes an uncomfortable breath. “I just can’t help feeling jealous that he’s – getting really close to you. That maybe you’re noticing him in a way that’s… that’s like how you notice me. Sorry,” he finishes lamely. He’s not a martyr, but he sure has been a sucker for Rin’s attention for most of his life.

“Makoto,” murmurs Rin, surprised. He’s silent for a few moments, his teeth grazing along his bottom lip. Makoto knows that means he’s trying to organize his thoughts – although he’s better than when they were in high school, he’s still not very good at expressing his feelings. “We’re teammates, and everything, but – he’s not… nobody’s like you are to me, idiot.”

“But he’s an Olympic hopeful, like you,” protests Makoto, feeling slightly deranged, as if he has to argue Mikoshiba’s case, “and his muscles are way bigger than mine – ”

“What the fuck, Makoto, I don’t care about his muscles,” laughs Rin, a hand coming up to one of his flush cheeks. “Seriously? Seijuurou’s some goofy jock moron obsessed with my sister, who never knows what time it is, and snores way, way too fucking loud. You’re my boyfriend, who’s basically the best guy in the world, and who I’m stupidly in love with. Oi, I should be the one getting paranoid – you’re the catch here.”

There’s an awkward silence, where Rin is blushing too much to meet his eyes, and Makoto is embarrassed by the other’s blatant romanticism; the redhead doesn’t say he loves him a lot, at least not out loud, and Makoto can feel a weight lift off his shoulders. Rin is his, and he’s been a fool to think otherwise.

“ – So you really don’t find him attractive?”

“Makoto, shut up!”

By the time Makoto closes the laptop to go to bed, almost an hour of chatting with Rin later, he’s got a smile on his face and a warmed heart.

It’s only on the edge of sleep that he realizes that Rin never answered his question.

 

 

After saying goodnight to his sleepy, stupid, achingly perfect boyfriend, Rin walks back into the hotel room, shutting the door behind him. He sits back down on the bed, opens Facebook messenger back up.

` **Matsuoka Rin** `

` back  `

` **Hazuki Nagisa** `

` ψ(｀∇´)ψ wb rin-chan!!!!!!!!  `

` u took 4everrrrrrrr~!!!!!  `

` omg i almost died of boredom!!!!!!!!!!!  `

` were u maybe… doing dirty things on camera…for mako-chan? ☆ъ（　゜ー^)＞ バチッ  `

` **Matsuoka Rin** `

` shut up. not even close. he thinks i’ve been checking out gou’s boyfriend.  `

` **Hazuki Nagisa** `

` Σ(･口･) u haven’t???????? `

 

A door closes, and the redhead looks up from his computer. Seijuurou has gotten out of the shower, and as he bends to pull on his pajamas, all the muscles in his lower back shift, just so.  


Rin swallows and looks back at the screen quickly.

` **Matsuoka Rin**  
shhhh.`

There's nothing wrong with looking, but Makoto can still never, ever, _ever_ know.


End file.
